His Best Friend
by Punkheart11
Summary: "Their putting me down too, now. It's not fun is it?" Sherlock Holmes, the machine, the sociopath, the detective, was not always like that. Hard to believe, but he was once a boy, a child, who had a pet dog named Redbeard. It was a happy story, well, right up until the end. This is the story. *Rated T for character death later*
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Christmas Surprise

It was around 3 in the morning when Sherlock entered his brother's bedroom. Much too early for any child to be up, but today was different, today was Christmas, and Sherlock was determined to get his brother awake. "Mycroft, Mycroft are you awake? Mycroft". Sherlock leaned over his brother's face, inches away from his ear. "Mycroft, you have to get up! It's Christmas. We have to open presents!" He lifted up Mycroft's eyelid.

"Mmh, Sherlock go back to sleep." His older brother turned around and put the covers over his head. He wasn't in the mood to put up with his brother's childish antics. He was never much into Christmas, well he was never much into cheery things in general.

"Mycroft! You do this every year. Why can't we open presents early like the other kids?"

"Because the other children are fools and simpletons who would rather spend Christmas opening boxes with expensive items that they begged their parents for all year long, rather than doing something productive. And need I remind you that they believe in a fat man who rides around on a 'magical sleigh' and goes to every house in the world in less than 24 hours?" He added, sarcastically.

"You're no fun." Sherlock pouted as he jumped into bed next to his brother.

"You're no picnic yourself," He said, "But listen, just let me sleep for a while longer okay. Just a few hours, then we can open presents. You're going to enjoy your presents more if you're awake." Mycroft covered his brother with the blankets on his bed.

"Ok, even though I'm not at all sleepy," Sherlock said in between a yawn he failed to cover up. He scooted closer to his brother and curled up with his teddy bear. Normally Mycroft would have ridiculed Sherlock for being dependent on an inanimate object for sleep, but today was different, today was Christmas.

The sunlight began to warm Sherlock's face as he turned around in the bed. It took a few minutes for him to realize that it was morning, Christmas morning. He opened his eyes and flipped over, seeing Mycroft fast asleep, and drooling on the pillow. Resisting the urge to burst out laughing he shook his brother awake. "Mycroft! Mycroft get up! It's Christmas, it's Christmas!" He got up from the bed and ripped off the covers. "Come on! You promised."

"Alright, alright…give me a second…" Mycroft replied, wiping the sleep away from his eyes. Sherlock grabbed his hand and began to race downstairs.

"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up its Christmas!" Mycroft smiled as his brother dragged him to the tree. No matter what, Sherlock's smile always brightened up his day. His little brother jumped up and down as Mr. and Mrs. Holmes came out in their robes.

"Calm down son, you're going to break something." Mrs. Holmes laughed. Sitting down next to Sherlock. "Would you like to go first?" She asked.

"Umm, it's okay Mycroft can go first." Sherlock said, getting one of the presents from under the tree and handing it Mycroft. Surprised by his brother's generosity, he took the colorfully wrapped box.

"To 'Mike', from 'Santa'. Must you call me Mike, mother, and Santa, really?" Mummy Holmes rolled her eyes and smiled at her son. He was an intellectual, no doubt about that, but sometimes she wished he would act more like a child, something most parents did not. He took the box and neatly ripped the paper, exposing the brown taped box underneath. Upon opening the container, he pulled out a red and green sweater. "Oh…thank you…_it's not like I have enough clothes…_ehem, its lovely mummy, thank you." He put the sweater back in the box.

"Okay my turn!" Sherlock looked through the presents, trying to decide which one to pick first. "Ah!" He chose a box wrapped in snowflake wrapping paper and began to rip it apart.

"Oh Sherlock do try to be a little more neat." Mycroft added, before being told to shush.

"Mummy I love it!" He said, as he perused his gift. It was an amateur detective kit, complete with magnifying glass, microscope, journal, and various other tools. Ever since an early age, Sherlock had taken to acting like his brother, obsessed with reasoning and deductions. Mrs. Holmes felt that this was a nice creative outlet, and encouraged it every step of the way.

"Glad you like it sweetie." Sherlock beamed as smiled at his parents.

"Here daddy! You can open this one! It's from me and Mycroft."

It was around 11 o'clock in the morning by the time everyone had opened their presents. Sherlock of course was the most excited and could not wait to play with his new things, including a chemistry set, a journal, and wooden sword and pirate hat. He had recently become fascinated with pirates after reading _Treasure Island_, and announced that he was going to be a pirate when he grew up. Mycroft of course scoffed at the idea, but his parents encouraged it greatly, buying him many books about the subject. As the family cleaned up the last of the wrapping paper, Sherlock gathered his presents. "Thank you Mummy and Daddy! I love the presents!" But before he could go up to his room, his father stopped him.

"Wait a minute son, we have one more gift, and this one is for both you and Mycroft." He said. Sherlock looked back at the tree, which was empty underneath.

"But there are no more presents under the tree." He observed.

"Well, this one couldn't really go under the tree." Mr. Holmes commented, as he began to walk to the door leading to the garage. Sherlock had absolutely no idea what it could have been, but Mycroft did, and refused to spoil the surprise. Mr. Holmes opened the door, and out came a small puppy, and Irish setter to be exact, which came straight to Sherlock and began to lick him.

"We know how you two have been wanting a dog, and we thought that it would help you two bond." Mrs. Holmes said, rustling Sherlock's hair. "But you two must work together to take care of this dog, that means feeding him, walking him, and cleaning up after him."

Sherlock made a face at that last bit, but it quickly went away as he scratched the new puppy behind the ear. "We will, won't we Mycroft!"

"I suppose, he is rather cute." Mycroft added as he came up to the dog. "What's his name?"

Mr. and Mrs. Holmes smiled. "We thought that you boys could pick the name." She said.

Sherlock looked away for a minute with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Ooo! Ooo! Can we name him Redbeard?" Sherlock asked, smiling, his missing tooth exposed.

"Redbeard? What kind of name is that?" Mycroft asked, while Mrs. Holmes gave her son a disapproving look.

"It's like a pirate name! Plus he has some red in his fur see? And his fur on his face kinda looks like a beard" Sherlock added, pointing to the dog. "Pleeeeeaaaasssseeee Mycroft! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"Whatever you want." Mycroft said, it wasn't something worth arguing over.

"Yay!" Sherlock grabbed the puppy and hugged it. "Hello Redbeard, I'm Sherlock, and I'm gonna be your best friend and you're going to be mine!

It was Sherlock's best Christmas ever.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Sibling Rivalry

_*Three years have passed since Sherlock got Redbeard*_

Sherlock wiped the blood from his lip as he struggled to his feet, only to be pushed back down to the ground. As his head hit the pavement, tears began to swell up in his eyes.

"Oh look, little Shirley's gonna cry again! What's a matter Shirley, big brother not here to save you?" Unfortunately that was correct. Sherlock had been given permission to work late afterschool on his science project, and on his way home he bumped into some bullies, or as Mycroft described them, "dim witted Neanderthals whose pea brained minds could only be entertained by seeing others in pain". Usually Mycroft could defend his little brother by insulting the boys with as many big words that could think of, or a teacher would stop things before they got too violent, but neither of those was a possibility. And while Sherlock was exceedingly intelligent, he did not have much in the muscles department and was not one for starting a fight, much less end one.

"Just please give me my things back." Sherlock muttered through the tears. But his pleas were in vain, as the bullies took his textbooks and began to rip the pages out. Sherlock could do nothing but watch as the boys tired themselves out, ending their pillage of the young genius's things by throwing his backpack onto one of the nearby school roofs and pushing him into the mud. Sherlock then spent the next half hour trying to get his backpack down, succeeding only when the janitor helped him get it. Head held low, he dragged his feet as he made his way to his house.

Sherlock tried to wipe as off as much blood and mud as he could, but the stains could not escape Mummy Holmes's eyes when her boy walked through the door. "Sherlock! What happened to you?" She exclaimed as she kneeled down to face the young man. "Was it those boys at school again?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." He mumbled, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to come back.

"Sherlock I've told you before, you have to learn to stand up for yourself, " Mycroft commented from the study where he was doing his homework, "They see your weakness and play on it. You're too emotional; crying will just invite them to punch you more."

"MYCROFT! Go to your room." Mrs. Holmes pointed to the stairs and glared at her son. Mycroft gathered up his things and sulked to his room, mumbling something about "just trying to be realistic" before catching his mother's eyes and walking faster. The older woman looked back at her child, who was now sobbing under his messy, curly hair. "Don't listen to him honey, you're fine just the way you are. Tomorrow I'll contact the children's parents again, I'm sure we can deal with this." She smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes. Sherlock was often picked on at school, mainly from the older boys who teased him for his intelligence. Mrs. Holmes was no stranger to bullying, as she and her older child had to deal with it when they were younger, but Sherlock was having a harder time dealing with it. The young boy had no friends save his brother and even they didn't have the greatest relationship. In fact, it seemed that the only true friend he had in the world was Redbeard, and although she knew it wasn't that healthy, Redbeard seem like the only person, well dog that would make him happy.

"Is it okay if I skip dinner tonight…I just want to go to my room," Sherlock asked quietly.

"That's fine honey, do you want to bring Redbeard in with you?" Normally they didn't let the dog in the house very often, but she could tell that he needed him. Sherlock nodded his head as a little smile crossed his face. "Okay, you can head up to your room and I'll bring him in shortly, alright?" Sherlock nodded again and began to climb up the stairs. Mrs. Holmes then let Redbeard into the house and up to Sherlock's room.

Young Sherlock was in his bed as the Irish Setter came into the room and began to lick his face. "Redbeard no." The boy laughed as he tried to push the dog away, but to no avail as Redbeard continued to cover the Sherlock's face in slobber. After a few minutes the dog stopped and leaped onto the bed, curling up by his feet. Sherlock lied down next to him and put his arms around the creature. A few minutes later a knock was heard outside of his room as his brother came in scratching his head.

"Hello brother." Mycroft said as he stood by the doorway.

"What do you want?" Sherlock's arms tightened on the dog.

"I just wanted to say that I was sorry for what I said earlier. It was rude."

"Did mummy make you said that?"

"Well yes, but I also mean it. I shouldn't have said that, especially after what you went through." Mycroft went over to scratch Redbeard behind the ear as the dog licked his hands.

"Well thank you for the apology, but Redbeard and I would like to be alone now."

"You're going to spend all night alone in your room with that dog?"

"Yes, and we would like you to leave us alone please."

"Fine." Mycroft began to walk out of the door, but before he could he turned to his little brother. "You know Sherlock, you're my brother and I know it may not seem like it but I care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt again. You need to be able to harden yourself up for the real world, and you can't do that I if you let your emotions take control of you. And you have to start with Redbeard, Sherlock, you have to let go of your connection with that dog."

"Redbeard is the only friend I have Mycroft! He cares about me and I care about him and he's my only friend."

"I care about you Sherlock! I know it may seem like I don't but I do, and I just want to make sure that you can defend yourself later in life. You need to start relying on yourself more often because I'm not going to be able to be there for you forever, and neither is mum, dad, or Redbeard." And with that, Mycroft walked out of the room and slammed the door. Sherlock spent the rest of the night with cuddling with Redbear, unbeknownst to him that this exact conversation would play in his head over and over not a year later.


End file.
